


To Occupy My Time

by Squirrels_All_The_Way_Down



Category: Parks and Recreation
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Poor Life Choices, ben wyatt human disaster, why would anyone want this?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-26
Updated: 2020-04-26
Packaged: 2021-03-02 04:27:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,899
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23859064
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Squirrels_All_The_Way_Down/pseuds/Squirrels_All_The_Way_Down
Summary: Where Ann and Ben drunkenly indulge in their self-destructive tendencies and also try to get back at Chris in a weird and twisted way.(Somewhat canon divergent, exists in a nebulous space after Soulmates but before Road Trip)
Relationships: Ann Perkins/Ben Wyatt
Comments: 2
Kudos: 6





	To Occupy My Time

**Author's Note:**

> This is the worst thing I’ve ever written, I literally hate myself so much.   
> This is very obviously ooc for both of these characters because why. Why would either of these characters do this?  
> I want to make it explicitly clear: THIS IS A BAD SHIP. I DID NOT ENJOY WRITING THIS. (Jk, this was really fun to write lol) I only wrote it because I just want to watch the world burn.   
> Enjoy :D

Ben is unmistakably depressed. 

Letters to Cleo shirt, unkempt hair, sobbing to REM songs at two in the morning, the whole package. 

Ben can’t seem to pinpoint the reason for his sadness, oh wait, yes he can. 

Chris has told him, in no uncertain terms, that he’s forbidden from dating any government official. 

And so the wonderful, blonde haired ray of sunshine, the one who’s read a nontrivial number of political biographies, is off limits. 

He could try, but that wouldn’t be fair. The sneaking around, the possible scandal, not to mention the potentially life ending embarrassment if she didn’t see him that way. 

It’s better if he ignores it and stays miserable forever!

God, he needs a drink. 

Ann is unmistakably depressed. 

Dog adoption sites, unfortunate dye jobs, scented candles, the whole nine yards. 

It had everything to do with Chris breaking up with her, and Chris breaking up with her so politely. 

Maybe if Chris had been a dick about it, maybe she wouldn’t be feeling this way, maybe she lacked the closure a good “I never want to talk to you again” had. 

Or maybe he was  _ the one _ , and nothing would ever fill the void he left behind. 

_ Wow, that’s depressing. And a really gross way of putting it. Good job, Ann.  _

She tosses the pair of ankle weights Chris got for her into the Chris Box. 

God, she needs a drink. 

Ann’s in the Snakehole Lounge, drink in hand, and it doesn’t take long for her to spot Ben Wyatt in a corner booth, looking like more of a wreck than she does. 

_ As if THAT’S possible.  _

“Heyyyyy, Ben!” Ann leans against his table. 

He looks up. 

“Oh, hey, Ann.”

“Are you doing okay?”

Ben combs his fingers through his clearly perturbed hair. 

“Well, uh, I’m at the Snakehole at six o’clock on a Tuesday, so, you know, could be better.”

“I mean, you’re seeing me at the Snakehole at six o’clock on a Tuesday, so…”

“Fair point. Care to join me in my state of…. whatever state this is?”

“Indiana, last I checked.” 

He snorts and scoots over.

“Thanks.” She slides into the booth. 

“So, uh, Chris. Wanna talk about it?”

“Nah, not really, it’s a whole thing, you know.”

“Yeah, I get it.”

“Do you wanna talk about whatever,” she gestures to his shirt, his hair, his beard stubble, “whatever’s going on here?”

“Nope! I do not!”

“Cool, okay.” Ann nods awkwardly. 

“Do you want to get absolutely shitfaced with me?”

“I really do!”

“Great!”

A number of drinks later and Ben can’t remember the last time he’s been this wasted. 

That doesn’t say a lot; he can’t remember much of anything right now. 

What he does remember is how stupid he was, all those times that he passed up Ann without a glance.

He spent so much time looking at Leslie that he ignored Ann. 

Like, they weren’t even friends, and that’s super weird cuz Ann’s like, super… friendsy. Friend… friendly. 

She’s sweet, and, uh, sweet. Super sweet. 

She makes him laugh, that’s good. 

She’s got a lot going for her. 

And if Leslie likes her, well...

“So Chris was like, I loved Chris, right? But he dumped me, and it sucked and it was bad and it was not good, but now I’m like, I’m giving me some me time, you know?”

“Totally.”

“Like, the men I’m with now, they don’t mean anything. It’s just one night, and then boom, out of my life. No strings, no commitment, no risks, no letdown, no problem.”

No risks. 

Oh. 

_ Ooooh.  _

Ben’s got a great idea, a wonderful idea, best idea ever. 

Ann’s right, it doesn’t have to mean anything. 

And it’s riskless. No scandal, no feelings, no sneaking around. 

_ I mean, I deserve to be on the rebound. Chris broke my heart too! Technically!!! _

_ You are such a genius, Ben Wyatt!! _

“Hey do you wanna know something totally crazy?”

Ann nods vigorously. 

“Uh huh, yes, I do!”

“You do not work for the state government.”

“No… no I do not. You’re very observant, Mister Wy- Mister Wya- Mister... Ben.”

“So like, if I wanted to make out with you, I could do it. Right here. In public. And no one would care. And I wouldn’t have to ask Chris…”

“Whoawhoawhoa, what’s Chris got to do with this?”

“Chris’s stupid dating rule. it’s so stupid.”

“Chris…. is stupid.”

“Right?”

“Sooooooo right!!”

“Chris broke your heart, and screwed everything up for me, so screw Chris!”

“Screw Chris!!”

Ben snickers. “You know, if we made out, it would totally make him mad.”

“Oh my god, you think so?”

“Oh yeah, it would make him so jealous!”

“Oh my god, yeah, you’re so right. Let’s make out!”

Ann’s face collides with his, and ow, that hurt. 

_ Kissing is so hard when you’re drunk.  _

But Ann’s so soft, and sweet, and pretty. 

_ Why haven’t I noticed how pretty she is before? _

And  _ wow _ , Ann’s biting his lip, and the pain’s good, he likes the pain. 

Their noses are smushed together, and it’s getting harder and harder to breathe. 

Ben breaks, gasping for air. 

Ann grabs a fistful of shirt and pulls him in again, teeth clashing uncomfortably. 

“Hey, hey, hey,” Ben pulls away again. 

“What?” Ann whines, still gripping his shirt. 

“Do you think this is enough to make Chris jealous?”

“Hmmm… what?”

“Like if we” he leans in, “if we had sex, it would drive him crazy.”

Ann laughs. “Oh my God, it so would! You’re a genius!”

“I know, right?”

“So, I will… I will call a cab, and then, uh, we can maybe make out some more?”

“Yes, good idea, Ann. That would be good!” Ben slumps over on Ann’s shoulder. “You’re so soft.”

The first thing Ben notices when he wakes up in the morning is his that his head is independently trying to commit suicide.

_ Ohhh, God. I’ve died. I’ve died and gone to hell.  _

The second thing he notices is that this is definitely not his house, his room, or his bed.

_ What the, where the hell… ohhhhhh no. Ohhhhh God. Ohhhhh no. _

_ This is hell, this is what hell looks like. _

“Aaaaaaaann,” he moans, tossing the disturbed covers aside, “where are you?”

“I’m over here, in the bathroom. Oh my God, I’m going to die.”

“Okay, okay, I’m coming, hold on.”

He looks around on the floor frantically.

_ Where the hell is my shirt? And my belt? And, uh, the rest of my clothing? _

It’s like a scavenger hunt, a scavenger hunt of shame and despair.

All articles located, he joins Ann in the bathroom.

“ Mister Wyatt, my partner in *hic* destructive activities!” She gestures to the tub. “S’all yours.”

“Oh my God thank you!” He clambers in, landing a little too hard.

“So, like,” he tries to prop himself up on the edge of the tub, but compromises by slumping up against it, “we should probably talk about what happened, right?”

“Hoooly Jesus, no.”

“But like, what do we, how do we, HOW? Jesus! Ow!” He cries out as pain rips through his head, “what do, we, like, what do we DO? FUCK!”

Ann winces at the shout.

“So, I definitely said I didn’t want to talk about it.”

“Neither do I, but like… what is this? What the hell are we doing?”

“Ben,” Ann pauses to dry-heave, “I was drunk, you were drunk, I was mad at Chris, you were mad at Chris, and we made the mutual decision to completely destroy our lives! What’s so complicated about that?”

“Oh, my God. Oh, my God, Leslie! Leslie’s gonna be pissed!”

Ann sits up slowly and points a finger in Ben’s face.

“Leslie is never going to hear about this, okay? If Leslie found out that I slept with you, she would actually kill me.” Ann slumps back down against the sink. “What kind of piece of shit sleeps with her best friend’s crush?”

“Leslie has a crush on me?”

Ann buries her face in her bath mat.

“Ohhhhh my God, Ben, HOW do you not know that? She’s SO obvious about it.”

“I don’t know, I’ve been really distracted, I guess. Oh, wow, that really makes this, like ten more levels of fucked up.”

“Yeah! Yeah, it does!”

“I’ve gotta get out of here.”

“I think that would be best.”

Ben pushes himself up into a standing position, his head searing.

“Do you, like, need me to call you a cab?”

“No, no, I’ll walk, thanks.”

“Here,” Ann heaves herself up, stopping to steady herself, “I’ll show you to the door.”

“Thanks,” Ben follows Ann into the living room and stubs his toe on a candle the size of a potted plant.

“Ow, you uh, you have a lot of candles.”

“Yeah, thank you! It’s because I’m sad and buying material possessions makes me fleetingly happy.”

“Haha, feel that!”

“So, uh,” Ann points, “there’s the door!”

“Yeahhhhhhh.”

They stare at each other. 

“Please leave.”

“Yep!” Ben starts to leave, then turns. 

“So we’re in agreement, right? We’re definitely not going to tell Leslie?”

“Oh, GOD no! Jesus Christ!”

“Okay, okay, just checking!”

If Ben had to make a list of Things That Were Definitely Not Good, it would include things like, genocide, Ice Town, and oh, uh, sleeping with your crush’s best friend would probably be on there. 

That's, wow, that's definitely a Thing That's Not Good. 

He thought before that he should move on, take exacting revenge on Chris, have a rebound of sorts. 

But now that just reminds him how much he wants Leslie. How any other woman pales in comparison. 

Stupid drunk idiot. 

_ I hate walking.  _

_ The Snakehole is so fucking far away, damn.  _

But he needs his car. And also he needs to go to work. 

Oh yeah, work started like 30 minutes ago. 

_ Oops.  _

Add that to the list of destructive actions. 

_ What’s the point in being destructive if it never…. _

_ Heyyyy.  _

_ HEYYYYY. _

Ben’s got another idea, except this time, it is actually a good idea.

_ If I’m going to be destructive, I might as well be destructive… productively. _

He dials Chris.

“Ben! Where are you?”

“I’m so sorry, Chris. I woke up really sick. Been vomiting for the past two hours.”

“Oh  _ no. _ That sounds like the  _ literal  _ worst thing in the world. Please, stay home.” Ben can hear the panic in Chris’s voice.

“Don’t worry, buddy. I’m staying put.”

“Good. My body is a microchip.”

“Actually, Chris, while I was, barfing, I had an idea. You know that assignment you want me to go on? Pitching Pawnee as a spot for the Indiana Little League Baseball Championship?”

“Yes, I do!”

“I want Leslie to go with me. I think she would be a great representative for Pawnee, she’s lived here all her life...”

“Ben, say no more. That is the most  _ incredible  _ idea anyone’s ever had. Dream team!”

“Just one thing, can you not tell Leslie it was my idea? I’d hate for her to think that I...”

“Ben, I completely understand.”

Ben’s glad he does, because he can’t seem to come up with a believable reason for anonymity.

“I will see you tomorrow! Feel better, buddy!”

“Thanks, Chris.”

He hangs up.

_ Well, now we’re getting somewhere. _

If Ben wants self destruction, self destruction is what he’ll get.

What could be more self destructive than a road trip with Leslie Knope?


End file.
